I have been a huge critic of Islam and Muslims. So much so that at times I feel that I go too far.
Generally speaking, I don’t much care for any religion. I don’t really count Buddhism as a religion. It’s more philosophy than religion. That’s my characterization. It’s not official and I’m sure that many people, many experts might disagree. I don’t care. If Socrates and Aristotle and Confucious were founders of the religions of Socratism, Aristotlism and Confucianism, then I submit. Buddhism is a religion. I think Buddha set about to free us from religion rather than found a new religion.
That’s all beside the point.
I have had the pleasure and privilege to meet many people in the lands of Islam. These were all nice people. Normal people. Some were highly religious. Some not so. Without exception the people about whom I am speaking were warm, nice, genuine human beings. Men who were concerned about the perceptions that terrorism gave to Islam. Yet, men who shared the beliefs of terrorists. They disagreed with the methods. Even so, some of these men shared the same hates as the suicide bombers of Palestine. Some of these men shared the same distrust of the West and America. Some of these men did not care for the West and our extreme materialistic society.
On some levels, I can’t blame them. Sometimes, I’d like to wage war on us.
All of these men, I counted as my friends. With some I’ve lost touch. Some I speak to still. I work with three young men who are Muslims. We speak about these issues. Frankly and openly. Each day, I converse with Muslims. At least two weeks of each month, I give a two week class to some elder Muslims. I’ve spoken with actual Mullahs.
In these experiences, I have learned that not all Muslims hate the West. Not all Muslims are devout. Not all Muslims are radical. Not all Muslims are actually “Muslim.” Not in the way that many of us in the West picture it.
In 1997, I was stationed in Egypt. The Sinai. The great waste land that separates Egypt and Africa from Europe and Asia. While there, I worked with and trained Egyptian Nationals. Abu Bakr was one of our civilian employees at North Camp. He’s worked with foreign nationals for years. While I was stationed at North Camp, a group of Egyptian terrorists fired on tourists in the Luxor area. They killed two buses full of men, women and children from Japan and Germany. These were terrorists who were part of the group known as the Muslim Brotherhood and al Jihad. A despicable group of murderers whose end goal is to depose the secular Egyptian government of Hosni Mubarak and impose an Islamic State on the model of Iran and the Ayatollahs of Qom.
Abu Bakr, who we called “Buck”, went crazy. He would tell us that he hated the terrorists. “This is not Islam!” “These people make us all look like crazed killers!” I wish I could translate his accent through words. He would assure me that Muslims do not approve of these actions. I wasn’t familiar with Muslims or Islam at this time. The little that I knew about Muslims had come from the Nightly news in America. I kept my peace. Buck was a nice man. A good friend. He would help anyone who came to him with questions about Cairo and what to see and do in the area. He would give tips on how to get the cheaper prices at the markets. He was a good guy. I’d say that he was my first Muslim friend. I’d go to his office just to sit, have tea and talk about the world. He gave me a human face with which to see Muslim peoples.
The guy pictured above is a police Colonel and a Mullah. He has attended our class two times. After the first class, I didn’t think I’d ever see him again. I try to end the class day with something interesting. I’ll play videos for my classes at the end of each days session. Sometimes we strike up interesting conversations about history, politics, culture. I’ve had some interesting conversations with these guys. I wish I could record them.
On one such occasion, I played videos for the group. A couple of the guys went up and stood inches away from the screen and just stared. One fellow from Balah Baluk started dancing. I started to teach him how to two step during a country song. But then I noticed that one student was missing. I asked what happened to him and was told that he had walked outside. I went out to make sure that he was ok. He said that he was fine. He was just getting some air. When I went back inside, I asked the guys in the class why he was outside. That was when they told me that he was an “ordained Mullah.” I was a little taken aback. Hoping that I hadn’t offended him. So I asked if it was ok to be playing these videos and such. All the guys just waved it off. Basically saying that he’d be ok.
Later, we chatted. I asked him what it was like being a Mullah. Made sure that he wasn’t offended. He told me that those things (videos with women) weren’t for him but that they were ok for others. He was completely non-judgemental about it.
I thought for certain that this would be the last time that I would see Mohammad Alam.
Three classes later, I look up and in he walks. To say that I was surprised would be like saying the sinking of the titanic was a minor accident. I was happy to see him though. The man has a smile (when he smiles) that can brighten any room. I’m sure you can see that by the picture.
The first class that he attended was during the coldest period in Herat in the past twenty years. We have our classes on the ANA camp. The buildings are equipped with wood burning stoves. They heat about a ten feet area and that is about it. So I set up the class room around the stove. These guys were all huddled around the stove as I gave the class. Every so often, one of them would pop in some wood. When they popped in a wet piece, the room would smoke up so it was hard to see and your eyes would burn. We gave out hot chocolate to keep them warm. It was a pretty cozy environment. That class became one of the most open politically and religiously that I’ve experienced. We talked about Pakistan, the taliban, Karzai, Ahmad Shah Massoud and everything else under the sun.
Hell, the motivation for some of them dancing around when I played the videos was probably to keep warm.
We talked politics and religion days before I found out that Mohommad Alam was a Mullah. Looking back, I don’t know if I’d have been quite so open had I known that beforehand. He kept pretty open minded about everything that I said. And I’m not all that fond of religion. That was the class that two of the students told me that Islam is their religion only because the Arabs came to Afghanistan and forced it on them. I’m often surprised by the things that some of my students say to me about Islam. No one in Egypt or Kuwait or anywhere else in the worlds that Islam reigns supreme have been so open about their feelings in that regard.
It has given me hope that war is not the only answer to Islamic terrorism.
